Magpie, mudlark, currawong
Wake her with their garrulous warbling song
As sunlight through the branches illuminates the dawn,
They boldly sing their joyful praise to greet another morn.
She sees them, from the hillside to the valley floor in flight
And spies them in the eucalypts, tiny specks of black and white,
For they are black as darkest coal, black as the midnight sky
And they are whiter than a cloud, or snowflakes drifting by
Magpie, mudlark, currawong,
If life was ever true, ‘twas never long.